Smile
by WatUCWatIC
Summary: Dagur seems like a nice guy, even if his smile is kind of weird. Inspired by a certain sadistic guest who liked my 'Dagur the Deranged' story.


Inspired by:  
**Guest**- _"Uuuuh I like this... poor Hiccup, but I'm a sadistic bastard. I've been searching for a while for stories with Dagur and Hiccup (NOT romantically involved, and it's definitely not an easy task...) so I hope you will continue this!"_

* * *

"Dagur!" Hiccup yelled in an authorizing voice. Little Hiccup was five years old. It was the first time Dagur had come to Berk, and it was his job to take care of him.

Hiccup had liked Dagur at first. He seemed like a nice lad, and although he was taller than him, he was just as skinny (like he and Astrid). It wasn't that that made the guy seem like a possible friend. It was the smile he presented Hiccup. Sure, it looked a bit awkward, but Hiccup was in no place to judge considering he'd just lost a tooth.

It was fun to give Dagur a tour. He loved asking the weirdest questions (that even Hiccup himself found weird) but it was fine. Conversation had started to become a seldom thing ever since the other kids had started to grow.

Uncle Gobber liked to kid around with him once in a while, but he wasn't allowed at Hiccup's house anymore (because Hiccup was getting annoyingly witty).

It started to become less fun when Dagur decided to stray from Hiccup and go to the woods. Hiccup had tried to stop him, but it was useless. He'd have to follow Dagur and make sure he stayed out of trouble.

_Dagur sure likes to explore_, Hiccup thought._ But he's kind of violent..._

Dagur was, at the moment, hitting a tree with the wooden sword he always carried around. It was a bit frightening, because he was smiling weirdly again and the tree was actually getting dented.

Hiccup sighed, and gave up looking at Dagur. It was kind of fun to look at him for thirty seconds, but the Berserker was determined to cut down the thick tree, so this would take a while.

Hiccup sat down under a tree, less thicker than the one Dagur was attacking. He pulled out his charcoal pencil and small journal he'd gotten on March. He'd liked to draw small people (no bodies, just head, arms and legs) into funny situation. At the moment, he was drawing a troll with six pairs of left sock. All of them were Hiccup's.

Hiccup glared at the finished (and messy) portrait of his most despised enemy for a second. Then the journal was gone.

He'd been so caught up in his hate for the troll that he hadn't noticed that Dagur was already done trying to knock down the tree. (He'd made great progress for a seven-year old with only a wooden sword, but it had been too slow for his taste)

"Hey!" Hiccup stood up and made a grab for his notebook. It had all his precious drawings and even some of his favorite leaves and rocks! Dagur held the book above his head, grinning.

Hiccup was left jumping up and down as he looked through his stuff, picking out what he wanted. In the end, he didn't like it at all, so he thew it over a steep hill.

Hiccup had made a dive to grab it, and ended up falling in.

"Dagur?" Hiccup asked.

"Yes?" Dagur's voice expressed nothing but delight, and Hiccup didn't have to see his face to know it.

"Help me up! Where are you?" Hiccup tried to look around the tree branches, moss and rocks, but he found no Dagur.

"Why should I help you?"

"Because you're my friend!"

Dagur stayed silent.

"Dagur?"

"Dagur!?"

"Dagur!" Hiccup yelled in an authorizing voice. Still no response came.

Hiccup sighed and went to pick up his journal. Dagur didn't seem very nice anymore. He put the journal away in his new vest pocket and went over to the steep hill.

Hiccup was particularly good at climbing (he had to climb a lot of things if he was so short) but even this looked like it would be hard. There weren't many roots or rocks to grab onto, but the dirt seemed pretty stable.

He grabbed a mound and tried to grab a small root, but fell.

"Ow," he grabbed his head. _Great, now I have a headache._

He made sure to dig his nails into the dirt this time, and even made it halfway up, but he was tricked by his boot and slipped.

This time, a branch managed to slice his sleeve and arm. And it was covered in dirt. Hiccup had heard of Vikings dying from infections like these.

He stared at the cut for a while (never having gotten a cut larger that his little finger or a bruise) and then started to cry.

"Why are you crying?"

Hiccup looked up and spotted Dagur. He knew he should feel angry (after all, it had been Dagur's fault that he fell in the ditch) but he felt grateful instead..

"Dagur! Can you call my daddy! Or- or Uncle Gobber," Hiccup hiccuped, still crying.

Dagur looked thoughtful for a second, before sitting on the ground and giving a blunt "Nope."

Hiccup stared at the boy for a while, trying to figure out if it was a joke. Then his cut started to sting. He looked at his sleeve, realizing he was bleeding.

He looked up at Dagur once more, and saw the smile. It was that same weird smile that Dagur had been giving him the whole time. It had seemed strange and bizzare at first, but now, Hiccup knew what it was.

It was crazy. It was insane.

"You're deranged!" He cried out.

Dagur's grin stopped, and Hiccup hoped he'd gotten through to him. The grin came back, and it was scarier that before.

"That's a fantastic name! What do you think of Dagur the Deranged?"

Hiccup stared at him once again.

Then he started to sob all over again. He wiped away the tears, but only got dirt and blood on his face, and the stinging in his arm worsened.

The sky was getting dark, and Dagur had already left.

_He's probably already headed to Berserk..._

_And nobody knows I'm here._

Hiccup started to cry again. He was getting dizzy and his sleeve had been completely soaked an hour ago. The blood was on the left side of his whole shirt and vest.

Hiccup heard a voice.

"...cup! Hiccup!"

Hiccup gasped and stood up, making his head hurt more. "Gobber!" He yelled as loud as he could (which wasn't very loud). Gobber still heard him.

"Hiccup!" Gobber recognized Hiccup's voice, though faint.

"Stoick! I found him! Hiccup where are you?" Gobber strained his ears to hear the boy's shaky voice answer.

"I'm down hear!"

Stoick came to Gobber's side, and they both followed Hiccup's voice.

The Berserkers had left long ago, and nobody had thought of asking Dagur where Hiccup was. It wasn't until they found Snotlout that he told them Hiccup and Dagur had entered the woods a while ago.

"Daddy! Uncle Go-" he started to cough but continued. "Uncle Gobber! I'm right here! I'm right- I'm... I'm..."

Stoick and Gobber arrived to the ditch just in time to see Hiccup fall to the ground.

"Hiccup!" Stoick slid down the hill, followed by Gobber. It was hard to see in the dark, even if they had lanterns. It didn't prevent Stoick from feeling something wet on Hiccup's arm.

"We should hurry Stoick," Gobber had said, looking closely at the wound. Stoick only nodded and they started to climb the hill.

It took a long time before they finally managed to get up, and an even longer time to walk back to the village.

The village healer had to be woken up.

"Luckily, you got there on time," she'd said, looking at Hiccup's drained face. He had finally stopped shivering, and the dirt and blood had been cleaned off. He was now in his own bed, changed into cleaner clothes, with a bandage underneath his left sleeve.

He looked like nothing at all threatening to his life had happened, laying on his bed, and Stoick felt relieved.

The next morning,Hiccup couldn't recall anything (or so he said) which was fine, seeing as there was a large bump on his head anyway.

He asked where his journal was. It was intact, and there was no blood on it.

He sighed in relief and put in at is side (his new vest was still covered in blood, so he had no pocket to put the journal in).

The subject was never spoken of again, and Hiccup realized he would actually have to go through this every year.

He only ever said one thing to Stoick.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think of the name 'Dagur the Deranged'?"

Stoick stared at his son for a while, before asking; "Why?"

"No reason. What do you think?"

"It's fine, I guess..."

"Oh. Okay," and he walked away.

The next year, eight-year old Dagur had come announcing that he was officially "Dagur the Deranged", grinning the same crazy smile he always had.


End file.
